Three's A Crowd. Four's A Party

Tender Headed (James x blackfem!reader)

Pairing: James Potter x blackfem! reader

Summary: James helps reader retwist her locs

Warning: mention of reader being hit across the hands by a parent.

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"It's open!"

James enters your apartment with a prominent frown etched into his face. Arms loaded with takeout bags and glasses fogged from the cold outside. "I really hate when you leave your door unlocked like that mouse" he says, kicking said door shut with his foot and slipping the lock into place.

He moves to the kitchen counter to drop the bags before doubling back to slide off his shoes.

You glance at him with a guilty smile from your place on the floor in front of the TV. This isn't the first time he's voiced his disdain for your lack of caution and it most likely will not be the last.

"You said you were five minutes away."

"Yeah" he throws his arms up in exasperation while wrestling out of his pluffy coat, "but still, just wait until I get here."

The conversation is dropped as quickly as it started as James' attention diverts to the food now that he's freed himself. He'd stopped by your favorite wing spot before coming over to spend some time with you. You hadn't been dating for very long, but due to both of your hectic schedules the majority of your dates took place within the confines of either of your apartments. Not that you minded.

"Ok they didn't have that lemonade you like so I got the ginger flavor instead. And they had these new hot wings I thought we could try!" His voice drips with excitement as he shifts through the bags "Half price if you ordered a dessert with them so we have cinnamon rolls for later"

He shuffles over to the living area with the food. Arranging it neatly on the side table before whirling on you with a grand smile "and lunch is served!" His eyes twinkle with pride.

You open your mouth to thank him but the conversation has once again moved on before you get the chance.

"Oh, what're you doing with your hair?" He's suddenly seated beside you. Thigh pressed warmly against your own.

Curious hands reach for some of the materials you have sprawled around. Combs and a small basket overflowing with duckbill clips. A portable standing mirror. Hair gels and a spray bottle filled with fresh rosemary water. He shakes it gingerly, bringing it to his nose for a quick sniff. He hums in satisfaction having finally found the source of your usual herbal scent.

"Retwisting" you say, feeling a swell of bashfulness settle in your chest. James has never seen you do your hair before. In fact, you'd never even allowed yourself to be so loose in front of any of your exes. They were quick to complain if you weren't dolled up every second of every day, no care given for the processes that went into it.

He takes this answer without further question. Finished with his perusal of your products. "Well take a break and eat before it gets cold."

He tears into his own meal then with much enthusiasm. The two of you fall into comfortable silence. Lulled by the sound of James chewing and the movie you'd only been half watching. Your arms and neck have started to ache a little since you started, but you don't want to eat before you've finished. Only half a head remains.

"How do you do this anyway?" James asks, startling you out of your thoughts.

You contemplate waving him off, but instead tell him to scooch over a tad when he peers at you with genuine interest. "It's easy, look here."

You finish up the one you'd been working on and grab for another. Using the tail of the comb and an intense gaze in the mirror you refine the part "Clean up the part, comb the new growth, apply some product" you spin the comb in your hand as far as it can go before plucking it out and using your palm to continue rolling down.

"And just twist in the direction you got them installed. Then pop on a clip" you conclude, clipping it close to the root into a row with two others.

"Wanna try it?" You hold out the comb to James who takes it before you've even finished asking.

"Um, yeah ok." He wipes his fingers off on a napkin and with more care than a boy of his size would be thought capable, takes your hair in his hands. He's gentle and precise in following your example. So focused on his task you can only smile at the wrinkle between his brow visible through the mirror "Like this?"

You wince as he removes the comb and palm rolls his work "A little too tight Jamie."

He lets up immediately "Sorry mouse "He completes the twist with a slightly lighter hand. "Does it usually hurt?"

"Well, I was pretty tender headed before I got them, even more so now. Sometimes I have to take some painkillers but it's usually not too bad."

You could still vividly remember the day you started doing your own hair. You'd only just turned nine, but the teasing you'd endured at school while learning what worked was much preferred to the strikes you'd receive across the knuckles from your mother. When you'd cry for hours on wash and style day. She despised your endless whining and groaning for her to be gentler. Said you were giving her a headache. All the while it felt as if she was ripping your hair out strand by strand.

James clips his piece away. He runs his hand affectionately down your arm "Can I try another one?"

"You're a natural" you praise him, checking over what he's done.

James beams at this "Let me do a few while you eat."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah mouse, just relax." He scoots in behind you to rest his back against the couch. Your supplies are dragged closer to him and your food is handed over. "If I fuck it up you can shave my head in retribution" he jokes, but you cannot find the humor in it.

"I could never do such a thing to your curls! I just got you into a good routine!"

He kisses the scowl off your lips while going for the remote. "What do you want to watch?"

"I saw they have a new season of Love is Blind out."

James helps you retwist your hair from now on.